Friday, February 28, 2014

When Bill Clinton stops by for dinner

I was handpicked to wait on Bill Clinton. I guess I was chosen because I was Southern and bubbly. My manager said, “There’s someone coming who is big, the biggest person you can imagine.” Michael Jackson? No, bigger. Oprah? No. They wouldn’t tell me but all of a sudden a security team arrived. They said, “Bill Clinton is going to be here in 45 minutes.” We gave him a wing of the restaurant. When he walked in, I had my back to the door. All of the sudden the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I thought, What the fuck just happened? Well, Bill Clinton had walked in the door. I had never experienced such pure magnetism from a human. I remember a Bangladeshi busser crying. He had been in the country for a couple of months but had a real affinity and love of this man. Clinton shook every single person’s hand in the restaurant. Every waiter, every patron. He ordered an omelette and a hamburger. He wanted them on the same plate, with French fries. But when he ordered, he got up and came over to me. He held me. He touched me while he ordered. It was very intimate.